


If This Doesn't Kill You

by TaylorJ



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, M/M, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-05-02 05:25:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5235890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaylorJ/pseuds/TaylorJ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His hair is gray and his smile has faded but he still has the sharpest eyes hockey's ever seen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If This Doesn't Kill You

You notice him sitting by the window when you first walk in. His hair is gray and his smile has faded but he still has the sharpest eyes hockey's ever seen. You still recognize him in an instant and smile instinctively. He's given it all for your country and you wonder, just for a moment, if it's still appropriate to stop and say, "Thank you."

You forgo it for the time being, walking up to the coffee shop's counter and ordering your usual after class snack. The place is pretty empty so there's no wait to be served and you take your items to the little nook behind the old man. You drop your books and softly settle your items on the table before sinking back into the comfy chair.

This is your usual café but not your usual time and you wonder if that's why you've never seen him before. He's hunched over at the table, looking small in his soft gray cardigan, staring down into his cup, and across from him sits one untouched. You wait to see if he's waiting for someone, flipping open your biology textbook and getting down to work.

It must be three hours later by the time you start to wrap things up. You've looked up a few times but he's never been joined at the table and you think it's best to just call it a night. He's still sitting there but now he's twirling his cup across the table. It falls over twice, enough for you to notice that it's completely empty, but the cup across from him is untouched. You think the styrofoam would be cool to the touch, if you were to walk over and pick it up.

You close the book you've been working from while keeping one eye on the man. He sighs heavily and lets his shoulders fall even more before leaning over and pushing himself up to standing. He's hunched a little as he slowly walks away, dropping his cup into the trash bin before heading out the door.

You wait until he's gone to gather up your books and make your way to the door. You hesitate as you pass the table he was sitting at though, the untouched cup still waiting by the chair that's ever-so-slightly pulled out. You shake your head at yourself but decide to just go for it, and lean over to pick up the full cup. It smells like tea and the cup feels cooler than the air and when you look for the name of who he was waiting for, you feel your heart skip a beat.

It reads, "Geno."

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr](http://taylorj8771.tumblr.com)


End file.
